


Nonchalant

by keytniss



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Is a Savage, Original Character(s), Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), Slow Burn, You’ll see, adrien doesn’t actually exist but chat noir(e) does, and bad-written fight scenes, and other characters interacting a lot, everyone is at least internet famous, stay if you want some angst, they swear a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 17:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keytniss/pseuds/keytniss
Summary: In which Adrienne Agreste considers Dupain-Cheng to be her favorite fashion designer; Marinette, however, refuses to work with the famous model who had everything handed to her.Or as I like to say: enemies (kinda) to lovers, but make it lesbian.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey!!! hello. i'm so excited.
> 
> i love miraculous ladybug but i love lesbians even more so i simply had to do this. this is the first time i try to write something longer than an oneshot or twitter au and i've been planning it for quite a long time.
> 
> please comment, support me, and maybe check my twitter (@keytniss) and read other things i've written. i'm a perfectionist and an anxious bean so i need to know if people want more of this or not. <3

_ let me tell you what is _

_ do you mind if i do _

_ i know i can be honest with you _

_ ‘cause i don’t like it as it is _

* * *

"No. Not happening."

"Come on, Marinette!"

It was the beginning of August. The two girls were at a table outside a coffee, waiting for Alya's order and hoping that the wind wasn't going to blow Marinette's hat away for good. Around them, tourists took pictures of every single building, Parisians were taking their dogs on a walk, and an old woman complained about the quality of the service— which really wasn't so bad. The topic of the girls' discussion was one they kept going back to: Marinette's refusal to design for Adrienne Agreste.

Alya held Marinette's hands, pleading for the hundredth time even though the latter had already made up her mind. It was kind of a running joke between the two so Alya wasn't totally serious but, gosh, the fashion designer could be _so _stubborn sometimes. Refusing partnerships, unfollowing people whenever they posted a picture with her rival, and now even _subtweeting _her rival, Marinette kept making her distaste pretty clear.

Of course, it's not like the girl lacked any reasons to dislike Miss Agreste and the other clowns that were her friends. But did she have to pick a fight with the most popular model in all of Paris?

"I don't like her," Marinette took a sip of her coffee. "A simple tweet is not gonna change that."

Alya rolled her eyes, both at Marinette and the old lady, whose complaints kept getting louder and vainer. "Come _ on, _ you barely even know her. You've only met once, in the backstage of Paris Fashion Week last year."

Marinette furrowed her brows and raised both hands, pointing them at Alya. She was baffled. Alya didn't seem to realize what was wrong.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Alya pushed Marinette's hands down back to the table. "Stop acting weird."

But Marinette wasn't going to calm down. She moved closer to Alya, almost leaning on the table.

"You do realize that was when Chloé Bourgeois tried to sabotage me, right?"

The waiter arrived with Alya's order, a black coffee and a croissant, and Marinette moved back. Alya smiled, thanked the waiter, and looked again at Marinette, who raised one eyebrow upon feeling the strong aroma of the drink.

"You shouldn't be drinking that."

The journalist had been having headaches in the last few weeks and everything seemed to point out that it was related to her consumption of caffeine. She drank it anyway.

"Please, don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not," Marinette grumbled, knowing damn well she was. Even though her friend was right, she didn't want to discuss what had happened the year before.

So she decided to face the street, crossing her arms. A petulant expression filled her eyes as they avoided Alya's.

Her friend sighed.

"_Chloé _tried to sabotage you," Alya argued, tilting her head and softening her voice. "Chloé. Not Adrienne."

Marinette bit her lip. The wind tried to blow her red hat again so she gave up and took it off, laying it on the table. Putting a lock of her hair behind her ear, she sighed. Alya knew how Chloe's actions had affected her friend's confidence. Everything turned out alright, but it had been a terrible experience.

"They're friends, Alya," she said, voice filled with disgust. "I can't stand them."

Realizing how pointless it would be to try to convince Marinette that her decision was unfair, Alya tried to lighten the mood. That seemed to be her function: trying to make Marinette realize she was being kind of neurotic, failing at it, and then changing the subject.

"We're friends with Luka even though he's a fuckboy," she started, adding sugar to her drink, "but that doesn't mean we agree with his attitudes."

That made both of them laugh, completely ignorant of the turmoil surrounding them as the old lady was forced to leave. 

"Ok. Fair point."

Marinette took another sip of her coffee. Looking at Alya, she gave her a half-smile.

"If Adrienne ever apologizes, then fine. For now, I'd rather avoid dealing with nasty rich girls."

Alya nodded. That was better than nothing.

"Ok. Fair point."

Not so far from them, a black butterfly approached the lady. Hawk Moth had a new target.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Adrienne hated not being on time. Punctuality was something her father had taught her to value and pay attention to since she was a child. Nevertheless, with her busy schedule of countless classes, photo shoots and even some fashion shows as fashion weeks around the world approached, time became one of her worst enemies— close enough to Hawk Moth. Oh, yeah, that too. She also had to find ways to escape and transform into Chat Noire whenever a new villain appeared.

Waiting inside the car as her driver, Gorilla, drove her to the restaurant where she'd have lunch before running to another studio, she texted Nathalie, her agent, so the latter could explain to the next photographer what exactly had happened.

She quickly got a text back. _ Your father won't be satisfied_.

_ No shit, Nathalie_, Adrienne thought but didn't text anything. Sure, it was Nathalie's fault that Adrienne barely had any time to breathe between one event and the other, running from a studio to the car and then back to another studio, and still was late to all of her appointments. Sure, she kind of made the model's life more difficult by telling her dad her every move. But being both her agent and her father's personal assistant surely had to be difficult. Adrienne didn't want to make it impossible.

As she rolled her eyes to the text and to her own kindness, her phone started to vibrate. Her childhood friend was facetiming her.

"Hey, Chloé."

"Oh my God, Adrienne,” the blonde said, holding the phone too close to her own face. She was probably checking herself and not really looking at Adrienne, but her best friend didn’t mind. “Have you seen Marinette's latest tweet?"

Adrienne gulped. Chloé could exaggerate on her reactions, but she also had a good nose for drama. If she was calling, that meant someone was about to stir up some trouble.

“No, what is it?”

Chloé rolled her eyes.

"Go check her Twitter yourself, dumbass.”

The model asked Chloé to wait while she opened Twitter and searched for Marinette’s profile— which, by the way, was already a suggestion when she opened the searching tab, as the app knew just how obsessed Adrienne was with her. The fashion designer had risen to fame about a year before, during Paris Fashion Week. It didn’t happen exactly as she had planned, not at all, but worked out even better, and soon enough every single fashion magazine was calling her a genius. And Adrienne could see why.

Marinette had a talent for design that she had been honing since middle school. The girl was a master of confection, putting different pieces of fabric together and modeling them into beautiful skirts, tight waistlines, graceful necklines in shapes that were not only original, but made older fashion designers wonder how they hadn’t tried such things before… and made young stylish girls desperate to get a grasp on her trendy newest designs.

So that morning, when someone on Twitter asked her who she’d like to work with, of course her answer had been Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

_ well, I’d love to work with Dupain-Cheng! she’s so young yet everything she works on is simply… mesmerizing. I really wish I could wear something she’s designed exclusively for me! _, Adrienne had replied to one of her own fans.

Now, as she opened Marinette's profile, she understood why Chloe had called. It was a simple tweet, not really mentioning or tagging anyone, but undoubtedly a message to Adrienne.

_ hahaha... that's a no :) _

"Did you see that?" Chloé fumed as Adrienne reopened facetime. "Ugh, that girl is so conceited! We gotta teach her a lesson."

Adrienne grimaced. She was upset that Marinette thought so badly of her. Still, her disappointment was not enough to let her friend plot another disaster. "You already tried to teach her a lesson last year, Chloé. It didn't work well."

Chloé narrowed her eyes as those words reminded her of what had happened. Adrienne immediately regretted saying anything, preparing herself for her friend's fury.

"Maybe it's better that she decided not to work for you, you know," Chloé hissed. "I bet she doesn't like all these fucking bootlickers around her, and you're one of them."

"Chloé..." Adrienne tried to argue, but all she got was a fake smile.

"See you later, love," Chloé said, and immediately ended the call.

Adrienne sat back on her seat. Her childhood friend would eventually simmer down and forgive her, so there was no reason to worry. But some people were more resentful than that. 

She was so lost in her own thoughts that Gorilla had to call her name three times before she noticed they had finally arrived at the restaurant. She apologized. Half an hour later, as he drove her to the next photography studio, she stared at the roof of the car and sighed, reflecting on Marinette's tweet. _ I should've gone after her and told her the truth_. _ Maybe she would've listened to me. _

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

Ladybug stretched her arms, waiting for Chat Noire to arrive at their meeting spot, a building near Les Invalides. Calling her had been impossible too, so she simply waited. It wasn't really a problem, as she loved the summer and its late sunsets: it was almost 9 P.M and she could still see the whole city, the artificial illumination of street lights just beginning to emerge. It was quite a beautiful view. Still, she had been waiting for 10 minutes now, which was weird considering her partner was never late for patrol, so she was starting to get worried. 

A few minutes later, as she turned around and checked other rooftops, she saw a shadow approaching. A really fast shadow. A black shadow with a tail and very green sclera.

Chat Noire.

She breathed in deeply, trying to control herself. _ Come on, Ladybug, focus_, she thought as she exhaled. There was nothing weird happening. They were just two heroines in tight suits getting ready to run and jump around Paris, looking for danger, trying to protect the citizens.

It was not like her feelings for her were getting stronger by the day.

"Partner," Chat greeted, out of breath. As soon as she got closer, she kind of bowed, kind of rested her hands on her knees. "I'm finally here."

She wasn't looking at Ladybug, so the spotted hero took her time to inspect her partner—or, more precisely, to appreciate her. 

Her hair was in the same messy bun, as always. Her skin-tight black suit, which covered her whole body, looked clean enough, which meant she hadn't been in a fight. She had a golden bell on her neck, connected to a zipper on the front of her suit. The black cat ears completed the look—along with the black mask around her eyes, now closed as she gasped for air.

When her breath finally calmed down, she said something that sounded like "not fair."

Ladybug raised one of her brows. "What?"

Chat finally stood up and looked at her, smirking as she approached. She was almost fifteen centimeters taller than Ladybug, and both were suddenly reminded of that. "I heard you defeated an akuma earlier today without me. If we're not careful, Master Fu is gonna think you don't need me anymore."

The other heroine laughed, trying to hide how she was starting to sweat. "That's bullshit."

"Seriously, this job pays really well," Chat kept talking, hands on her chest as if nothing else mattered in her life but that superhero suit. "If they find out I'm letting you do all the hard work, they might fire me. And I like the suit."

When she finished talking, her face was so close to Ladybug's that the red hero had to look away to not blush. Ladybug jokingly pushed her partner, giving herself some space. "Shut up. You're such a drama queen."

Chat Noire grinned. "Yeah, I did lie when I say this pays well," she said as she ran her fingers through her messy hair, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, only for it to emerge again a few seconds later. "But you _ really _shouldn't be doing this alone."

Ladybug bit her lip. She wanted to run her own fingers through her partner's hair _so bad_. Did she realize just how charming she was? 

"I just happened to be there. She was just an old lady forcing everyone to make coffee for her. It could be worse. Sometimes Hawk Moth just wants me to waste my time."

Chat crossed her arms. "Is that so?"

That made Ladybug roll her eyes. "You're so..."

"Come on," she interrupted, putting her hand on Ladybug's shoulder. "I just don't want to see my friend facing villains all by herself. I understand this was an easy one but, please, don't make a habit of it, ok?"

Ladybug looked at her partner's hand where she was holding her, hoping she couldn't see the blush coming to her cheeks, or her skin getting warmer where she was touching it. Physical contact was normal, even necessary between them, but she couldn't help notice how strong Chat's grip was and imagine what that hand would feel like if there was nothing covering it, skin on skin.

_Good. Now apparently I have a hand kink too_, she thought to herself.

"I'm fine," she took Chat's hand from her shoulder, still avoiding her eyes. The word _friend _resonated in her head. "You should be more worried about yourself. Why were you late? Did anything happen?"

If Chat found her reaction weird, she didn't mention it. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly looking exhausted.

"It was because of my actual job. It's been rough. I'm sorry for making you wait."

"Don't worry," Ladybug, now holding her yo-yo, assured her. As much as she loved talking to Chat, it was already 9:30 and they hadn't started patrolling at all. Soon enough she'd have to be back home so her parents wouldn't notice she had been gone for hours. "It's fine as long as you let me know. Text me next time."

Taking the cue, Chat reached for her baton, which she kept behind her lower back. It had been a long day, but she always felt comfortable with Ladybug. She loved just how free she felt: no paparazzi, no fans, no mean tweets, no controlling parents. Just her masked friend and her, leaping around the city. She smiled and winked at her.

"I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo, yeah! that was it! hope you enjoyed it and hope you keep coming back for more :-)   
as i said, please comment, support me, and check my twitter ... i need support!!
> 
> (also thank u lara for supporting me this first chapter is dedicated to you ily)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet luka and nino :-)

_ and if you could only see them, then you would agree _

_ agree that there ain't no romance around there _

* * *

Friday night. Marinette couldn't remember the last time they were together like that.

Luka, Alya and she were sitting at their favorite bar, a small, cozy one in the 3ème. Its walls were covered with small pictures of different people, mainly in their 20s, who came there regularly. From where she was sitting, a small table right by the entrance, Marinette could see a polaroid picture of Luka with Juleka, stuck on the upper-right corner of the wall, opposite to the bar that stood behind her. There was also a passport picture of Alya somewhere, one that she had brought when she came there to celebrate her eighteenth birthday.

The only one missing on its walls was Marinette. She always forgot to bring one of herself. 

"Marinette, where's your picture? I can't find it," Luka said, as if he could read her mind. That happened quite often between them.

The blue-haired guitarist had found out about the place when Marinette and Alya were still in high school: he was a year older than the girls and went there with his college friends constantly instead. Of course, he and Marinette weren't talking at that time, since they had just broken up, so she had gotten to know to place only a few months before.

Oh, yeah. He and Marinette had dated. Not that it mattered anymore.

"I forgot." Marinette sighed. "Like all the other times."

Luka, who was moving his head and looking at all the other pictures, raised his eyebrows and pointed at the wall near the bathroom.

"See, Alya's there.” He lowered his eyes to Marinette. "I swear to God, you're the only Parisian that doesn't have a picture here."

Alya rolled her eyes and adjusted her glasses, pushing the pair by its bridge. She then grabbed her phone and opened Twitter, completely not interested in whatever they were discussing.

Marinette rolled her eyes too.

“Sometimes I forget how annoying you can be.” She sipped her beer, immediately regretting it. The taste wasn't the best, but people told her that everyone eventually gets used to it, so she was trying to. Also, the fact that it only cost 3 euros helped a little bit.

Still, she couldn't help making a face while she lowered her glass.

"Come on!" Luka lightly pounded the table. "Let's go home, grab my polaroid and take a picture of the three of us, so we can stick it on a wall."

Alya was still on her phone. Marinette was getting annoyed at her for that, but if that were a competition to see which of her friends could get her more annoyed, Luka would still be winning.

"Enough. You're making me tired. Maybe tomorrow, ok?"

Luka, who was already on his third _ pinte_, stood up.

"No, let's go now."

"Please, sit down," Alya grumbled, without raising her eyes from her phone, "you know you're not that drunk."

"Yeah, Luka, forget about this picture," Marinette continued as he sat down. "Why don't we talk about the fact that you're carrying your guitar with you, instead?"

Hearing that, Alya finally seemed interested enough in the conversation, moving her eyes from her phone so she could see if Luka actually had his guitar with him. He did. 

"Oh, I hadn't even noticed that.” She shook her head, but her fond smile betrayed any attempts to make fun of him. “Gosh, you can be so fucking extra sometimes."

"I have my reasons," he assured them, smirking.

Marinette furrowed her brows, remembering how he made her fall for him, composing songs and singing them to her. He was a musician, so of course there were a million reasons he could be carrying his guitar with him. Still, it had been some time since they talked about his flings.

And he sure had a lot of them.

"Are you seeing someone new, Luka?"

Luka winked at her, drinking the last of his beer. They didn't like each other anymore, but that didn't stop him from acting just as flirty as when they did. He _ was _ a fuckboy, after all.

"First, let me order another round.” A smirk came to his face, or never really left. “We’re not leaving this place so soon tonight.”

* * *

"I can't believe you went out with Lila again, Adri."

Adrienne was lying on her king-size bed, her head hanging over it, eyes looking at the ceiling. It was a Friday night and she really wasn't in the mood to try to escape from home and then from the paparazzi, so she just stayed there in her flannel pajamas.

She wasn't alone, however. Nino was sitting on the ground, right beside her. She had called him to ask him to come for a sleepover, and though the DJ almost always had his weekend nights booked, he came. He could hear in her voice that she was feeling kind of down.

"Come on, Nino. It's just to pass the time," the girl protested, reaching for some of the popcorn. Next time she spoke, her mouth was full. "It's nothing serious. She's cool."

Of course, it had been difficult in the beginning to convince her dad to even let Nino come to their place: Adrienne wasn't allowed any visitors, much less a _ commoner _ from high school. When Gabriel Agreste realized his daughter did need another friend that wasn't Chloé, however, he let Nino come over almost whenever he wanted, as long as Adrienne asked Nathalie for authorization first.

Convincing them to let Nino sleep there had been another story. But her dad had gotten over it, just as he had gotten over the fact that his daughter had no interest in guys whatsoever.

"Dude," Nino laughed, unwrapping some expensive chocolate that his friend kept in her room, "I swear you make the most stupid decisions."

Before he could bite on the piece of chocolate, Adrienne grabbed one of her pillows and threw it to close to his head. He dodged it, but his quick movement made the piece fall on the ground. Nino looked at her, eyes bugging out.

"What the hell was that for?"

Shaking his head, he grabbed the chocolate and ate it anyway. He knew just how clean Adrienne's house was: the five-second rule could be extended to a ten-minute rule if they wanted.

"I don't make stupid decisions," Adrienne complained, childishly.

She then frowned, annoyed as her neck began to hurt because of the weird position she was in, and sat up. It wasn't that she didn't understand why Nino didn't like Lila— the girl really had a tendency to exaggerate some facts. He was right to be concerned, just trying to be a good friend as always, pointing out to Adrienne how that could lead to unexpected trouble.

She just couldn't believe he had so little faith in her to take care of herself.

Fixing her hair and stretching her neck, she searched for her phone, which was nowhere to be seen. Nino's phone was there on the bed, though, right behind him, on Adrienne's left. A notification came up just as she was looking at it. She raised her brows.

"Oh my God.” She immediately reached for the phone, recognizing the icon of the app. "Are you on Tinder again? Nino..."

The boy turned around like his life depended on it, trying to take it from her, but the girl was already standing up on her bed.

"STOP."

Adrienne unlocked his phone as fast as she could. The boy would always ask her to answer texts for him when he was occupied at parties DJing, so she knew his password by heart. Was DJing even a verb? She didn't know. And she didn't care.

"Nino… my sweet boy… on Tinder..."

Nino climbed onto the bed and then stood up, reaching for his phone as Adrienne raised her hand holding it.

"Ok, listen," he said as he went for her hand, trying to pull it down, "not everyone is a hot tall lesbian model, alright? Life can be difficult for us ordinary male DJs."

His strategy didn't work: though Adrienne was no more than two centimeters taller than he was, she was way more flexible. She pushed him, laughing.

"Shut up. You're hot and tall too."

They were kids, jumping on her bed and throwing pillows at each other. Adrienne chuckled and looked up, to where her hand was keeping Nino's phone away from him. He had never mentioned being on Tinder to her; she wanted to know what kind of people he was meeting there.

Internet was slow that night, so pictures were just blank spaces on the screen. When she saw the faceless name of the person he had just matched with, she almost choked.

"Wait. Alya?"

Her shock distracted her enough for Nino to take his phone out of her hands.

"Give me that."

Adrienne didn't even react. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear— a habit she had not yet managed to get rid of after she had cut her hair in an untidy bob— and bit her bottom lip. The strand was so short, though, that it easily flopped back over her eyes. She watched as Nino sat down on the edge of the bed. His jaw dropped.

"Wait, we matched? Fuck."

She knelt behind him, trying to see the cell phone over his shoulder. The picture still hadn't loaded.

"Her name is Alya? Please don't tell me..."

"Yeah, it's Alya Césaire," he said as he looked behind at her, "the creator of the Ladyblog."

Of course she knew who Alya Césaire was: she was Ladybug's #1 supporter. They had met a couple of times, and _ Chat Noire _had even granted her a few interviews. Ladybug seemed to be especially fond of the girl, willing to give her details about the fights even when she didn't have to. Chat found that cute.

"I know who Alya Césaire is, dumbass. I'm asking you if that's really her."

Nino looked at the phone and pursed his lips, confused for a few seconds. 

"You know, I hadn't thought about that. What if this is a fake?"

Adrienne rolled her eyes and took the phone from Nino's hands, sitting beside him.

"Adri, stop! Don’t send her anything! Please!"

She put her hand on his face, pushing him away before he could take his phone back.

"Shut up, I just need to check her profile."

The model didn't use Tinder that often... at least not with her true identity. Sometimes she'd download it, use a random pic as her main—a sunset, the sky view of New York, her hands, a picture of Chat's gloves—and wait to see if other people would match with her. It was stupid and she never told that to anyone, but it was still an interesting way to pass time and get to know people outside her group of friends. 

And at that very moment, that gave her the ability to find out if it was actually Alya or not.

"It's her, it's definitely her."

She gave him his phone back. He kept turning it in his hands like he was searching for scratches.

"How can you be so sure?"

It was almost midnight. The girl lay down on her bed again, spreading her arms.

"Her Instagram is connected. Only the real Alya could have done that. Unless someone hacked into her account."

She waited for Nino to say something, but he didn’t. Silence pressured her into looking at him and asking, “What?”

Nino looked suspiciously at her, narrowing his eyes. "And you know so much about Tinder since when, Agreste?"

"Chloé has taught me everything that is to know," the lie came easily. She avoided his eyes and started playing with one of her bracelets.

Nino wasn't totally convinced by that, but he didn't want to discuss or press any further. Adrienne always had a lot going on in her mind: her work as a model, her dad who wouldn't let she do what she wanted, and now college, which reunited both things. Studying economics was fun, _ should _ be fun considering how much she loved math, and numbers, and would probably love to follow an academic career. But her dad, of course, wanted her to follow a different path: she would study economics _ and _business, so then she could take care of Gabriel, his brand, after him. It was just so stupid. Adrienne was already busy enough with her Chinese lessons, and Nino knew she wouldn't give up on piano or fencing— the first, because it reminded her too much of her mother, and the second because it was one of the few things she actually enjoyed doing. She was too busy, and any hobbies or fun she had was something she truly deserved.

So, no, Nino didn't feel comfortable trying to make Adrienne open up to him. She had done it already, many times before.

All she needed was time.

"Come on, you have to help me." Nino lay by her side. "What should I ask her?"

Adrienne’s smirk was playful, but somewhat nasty too. 

"Ask her if Marinette Dupain-Cheng is bi."

Of course, Marinette was another thing that she simply couldn't let go of, especially after what had happened the year before. He was starting to get why she was puzzled to see that he was talking to Alya, or about to.

"Adri," he said, shaking his head. "I know you're obsessed with her but... Please. I can't ask that."

To that, Adrienne grabbed her pillow and tucked it underneath her head. She folded her arms contemplatively, staring up at the ceiling, memories of another year going through her mind. She remembered Marinette's shocked look, the way she had pulled that dress from Adrienne's hands like they were poison, the way she screamed at them to just leave her alone, not allowing Adrienne to say a single word.

A bitter taste came to her mouth.

"Then ask her why her friend hates me so much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo i guess this is it!! hope you enjoyed it. don't forget to comment/give me kudos/recommend it to friends, i seriously appreciate all of that
> 
> thank u mari-cheres/tiffany for helping with my dumb questions. i don't know a better person and don't know how i'd do this without your help!!!  
also thank u lara again for all the support and for listening to my long ass audios when i was coming up with the concept for this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has secrets. And her friends do, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a filler i guess. but i love writing djwifi and adrienne so there's that.

_we're breaking promises we thought we could keep_

_we trigger avalanches unknowingly_

* * *

“So… Lila Rossi, huh?”

They were walking back home, Alya in the middle. She was holding Marinette’s hand and touching Luka’s arm, teasing him about the new girl in his life. Marinette was leaning forward, trying to see Luka’s face as he talked about her. Though it was unusually cold for August, the trio had drunk enough beers to feel comfortable out without a coat.

None of them lived near each other, but since Luka's house was not so far from the bar and on the way to a station that served both Marinette and Alya, they always walked together.

“Yeah,” Luka said, smiling at Alya. “She’s cool. And she likes the same bands I do, you know? Says she’s friends with some of the members.” He tilted his head to Alya’s side, as if he was telling her a secret. “_And _she can sing.”

The girl simply snorted. Of course. If the girl didn’t like music, none of that would matter. So typical of Luka...

“Do you think anything could happen?” Marinette asked, genuinely interested. Though Luka loved flirting, he wasn’t the type to fall in love so easily. He preferred going from one interest to the other, letting them know exactly what his intentions were, and then moving away quite easily. No heartbreaks, but no serious involvement either.

If Lila had caught his attention like that, that had to mean something.

He considered that for a second, narrowing his eyes and pressing his lips together. His blue hair was a mess, covering his forehead, but still charming.

“I honestly have no idea,” he finally answered. “It feels like there’s a lot going on in her romantic life.”

“How so?” Alya insisted.

“She…” Luka immediately started, but paused and looked at Marinette before speaking, wondering if he should really answer the question. She raised one eyebrow at him, challenging him to explain what he meant by that.

He sighed, but kept going anyway.

“She went out with Adrienne Agreste today, a date sort of thing.” 

Marinette immediately turned her eyes away from him, making a face that was worse than the one she made while drinking beer. The mention of Adrienne Agreste always made her feel a little bit sour. 

He spread his arms. “Well, you _asked _me what I meant by that!”

She rolled her eyes. Luka was always honest and that could be annoying too.

“I didn’t _know _you were gonna talk about Agreste again, especially about her sexual life or whatever. That’s disgusting.” She kicked an empty bottle of water that was lying on the street, then felt bad for it and threw it in a trash can. She sighed. “I must have heard her name at least a hundred times this week.”

And that was true. She had heard and read Adrienne Agreste’s name too many times that week, especially on her Twitter, where Adrienne’s fans wouldn’t stop bullying her.

Alya gave a dry laugh. Marinette stopped walking, crossing her arms.

“What now, Alya?”

Both her friends turned around. Luka was already regretting what he said, trying to find ways to run from there, knowing he should have just lied or omitted the name instead.

It was too late.

“Gee,” Alya said, crossing her arms too, “you always get so sensitive when we mention Adrienne.”

“You know why. She tried to…”

“Yeah yeah, we know and we don’t care.” Alya took one step closer to Marinette. “Girl, I love you, but if people on Twitter and everywhere can’t stop asking you about Adrienne, it’s your fault.”

Marinette furrowed her brows.

“It’s not.”

She had the decency to sound insecure, so Alya didn’t even try to contradict her lie.

“You know it was fine hating her as long as you kept it to yourself. That tweet was a mistake.”

Marinette pursed her lips. There was no way around it: she had really fucked up telling everyone publically that she’d never design anything for Adrienne Agreste. It was not a direct answer, a simple “that’s a no” that could really be directed at anyone, but the press knew better.

She hadn’t been subtle about her disliking the model, ever. And now she was paying the price for that.

Her shoulders slumped.

“I know. I’m just tired and anxious,” she said. “I have to meet with Audrey Bourgeois early on Monday, and I don’t know what she wants.” Then, she pouted in an exaggerated manner, joking, trying to lift the mood a bit. “Besides, it’s _really _hard having Paris’ sweetheart as your nemesis.”

Her friends laughed, grabbing her by her arms, and soon the three of them were walking again, with Marinette in the middle.

“I wouldn’t really call her your nemesis, you know,” Luka provoked.

“Yeah,” Alya agreed, hitting Marinette with her elbow playfully. “And she isn’t Paris’ sweetheart either._ Ladybug _is.”

“Oh,” Luka said, pointing a finger at her, “you’re completely right.”

Marinette gulped, fast enough so her friends didn’t notice it.

They were amazing. They were the best friends she could have ever asked for, supporting her when she was right and calling her out when she was being stupid. After three years, there was no way she could imagine her life without Luka’s recommendations of new songs and Alya’s crazy obsession with becoming a famous youtuber.

Still, Marinette had a secret to keep, one they didn’t know and couldn’t know about. So she tried to change the subject.

“Anyway, Luka,” her eyes didn’t leave the ground. “I know Adrienne is… well, a model, but you’re super charming, too. Don’t let that bitch win.”

Alya looked at Marinette with curious eyes, trying to understand the sudden calmness and change of heart, dropping Adrienne’s name as if it was nothing. Marinette pretended she didn’t notice that.

“I don’t know about that, to be honest.” Luka shook his head. “They seem to be very close. Lila prefers girls and, well, we’ve all read what they say about Adrienne and her love life. I don’t think I have easy competition here.”

The press was very clear and very detailed when it came to Adrienne’s love life. They knew who she had dated, when, and how long it had lasted. Her closest friends always denied it, saying it was just gossip. Gabriel Agreste made sure to let everyone know that his daughter was “a decent person, a dedicated student who deserved more articles about her uncountable talents than about her personal life.”

But Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling that Adrienne Agreste was most likely a player. Paris’ sweetheart, yes. And Paris’s heartbreaker, too.

Thankfully for Marinette, they didn’t have much time to keep talking about that. They got to the station, right in front of one of the escalators going down.

“Well, that was it,” Luka said, hugging both of them. “Lovely to see you both.”

Alya was yawning, but still managed to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Wow, thank God tomorrow is Saturday.” Then, remembering something, she turned to Marinette. “Wait, what was that about meeting with Audrey Bourgeois this Monday?”

“She called me after I left work today. Said it’s urgent.”

“Is it about your new project?” Luka asked, fixing his guitar on his back.

Marinette shook her head. “Honestly don’t know.” 

She and Alya then took a step forward, going down the escalator. Luka grew taller and taller as they looked back at where he waited before going back to his own home.

“Good luck, I guess? Hope you don’t get fired?” He suggested, voice a little louder so they could hear him.

“She’s my boss, and she’s calling me for a meeting early in the morning on a Monday,” Marinette shrugged, trying to sound as ironic as possible. She could barely see Luka’s hair as she screamed the next words. “What can go wrong?”

* * *

It didn't matter how many other cities she visited or how many times she looked at Paris from an airplane, Adrienne would never not be impressed by how pretty it was.

There was something incredible about it. She liked New York and London and Milan and São Paulo and every other big city she had visited as her career and European passport took her everywhere, but Paris was simply… magical. It's small buildings, their colors, the Seine during summer and the beginning of Fall, the gardens, the language, the culture… Whenever she spent more than three weeks away from it, her heart would start to hurt a little bit, as if her heartbeats were getting weaker and weaker without the energy the place could give her. It was home, even if it was suffocating.

Even if her dad did not make things easier.

She was nineteen, so she thought that would mean independence would finally come. Most of her money still came from her dad's account, but it wasn't like she hadn't worked hard for it as a model.

Nepotism, you might say— some magazines would say the same thing, no hard feelings. Whatever. She wouldn't deny it. But there were many times when Adrienne could have simply refused or taken advantage of her privileges, and she never did that, or at least not on purpose. She tried to help models in the early stages of their career by participating in photoshoots with them. She tried to raise awareness on environmental causes and promote different organizations who tried to stop slave work in the fashion industry. She asked her dad to donate every single penny he got from her career to different NGOs, asked Nathalie to donate every piece of clothing that other brands would send her and she couldn’t really wear.

If there was a way she could use her stupid fame to help the world, she would do that.

But, again, her dad did _not _make things easier.

"Come on, Ladybug, where are you?" she said out loud, without realizing it.

Her attention went back to Paris and its rooftops. She sat down, legs hanging dangerously on the edge. The sun on her skin felt nice, though it only touched her face around the mask. She wished she could detransform, feel the sun on her legs and arms and talk to Plagg as she did so, but she knew she couldn't. So she just waited.

"Fuck.”

Adrienne heard a voice, then turned as a figure in a red suit approached her from behind.

"You're late, milady," she said, hands just above her eyebrows as she tried to avoid the sun. She could barely see Ladybug’s features: only her shadow was clear.

Ladybug then sat beside her and blushed, or Chat thought she blushed. Her cheeks could also be red because of the sun, she guessed. It didn’t matter. 

She had earphones around her neck and soft music was coming from them. Only then Chat noticed she was carrying a paper bag with her.

“What’s that?”

“Sorry,” Ladybug ignored her question. “Got busy helping my parents. I love them but they can be so much sometimes..."

That caught Chat's attention, distracting her. Her partner barely talked about her personal life, but from the little things she constantly said, Chat guessed she had a good relationship with both her parents.

Deep down, she wondered what that was like.

“Take one,” Ladybug said.

"What?"

Chat’s eyes dropped to Ladybug’s hands, where she held the opened paper bag. There were cookies— including chocolate chip cookies, Adrienne’s favorites— and two croissants.

"Take as many as you want” Ladybug repeated. “They’re super fresh.”

_ She must live nearby this bakery_, Chat thought, so quick that it didn’t really stay in her mind.

“If you keep bringing these,” she said out loud, grabbing one cookie and one croissant, “you’re seriously gonna ruin my diet.”

“But I’ve been bringing them for the past two years,” Ladybug said, confused.

“Exactly.”

They ate the croissant quietly. Chat got back to thinking about Ladybug’s parents, what her life was like when she was not in costume, what was her job like.

It’s not like she wasn’t curious about her partner’s identity. She definitely was: they’d been working together for such a long time that it was impossible not to wonder how their dynamic would be without the masks.

But it was for their protection, so Hawk Moth wouldn’t do anything, so she didn’t want to think about that too much.

“Is it fine if I’m not here for patrol this Monday in the morning?” Chat asked, suddenly remembering a meeting she had, another appointment that Nathalie had said yes to without consulting her. She was exhausted of always saying yes, but hoped this time it would be worth it.

The appointment was with Chloé’s mom, after all. And Audrey Bourgeois loved her almost like a daughter.

“I won’t be here either,” Ladybug shrugged. “I guess Paris can survive for a few hours without us.

So they ate, and then left ten minutes later when Hawk Moth akumatized a poor kid who had been left alone by her parents. They fought together, Chat protecting Ladybug as always, and soon enough they’d defeated the akuma.

“I have to go back as soon as possible. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Chat winced as Ladybug said that. She was probably going back to her parents, whereas Chat, _Adrienne_, was going back to her extra fencing lessons.

She hadn’t seen her dad in a week.

“Sure!” She answered, taking her baton and extending it.

Maybe her dysfunctional family shouldn’t annoy her so much, but it did. Maybe she should just get used to it and stop comparing herself to Ladybug, but she couldn’t.

A fake smile reached her lips. Years of modeling had taught her how to smile through pain pretty well. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

* * *

Later that day, Alya called Luka.

“Thank God you’re awake and not having sex or anything,” she said before he could even properly answer the call.

“Alya... It’s eleven in the morning.” His voice was rasp and he sounded like he had just woken up. Maybe he had. “You saw me yesterday at night. Did I look in a good mood to go out after that?”

“No? But we can never know when it’s you.” She heard a sigh and tried not to laugh. This was a serious matter. He had to pay attention to her. “Anyway,” she continued. “I’m calling you because it happened.”

She could hear him on the other end of the line as he moved.

“What happened?”

She waited a second, biting her lip.

“I matched with Nino,” she confessed, and her voice was basically a giggle.

“You. You what?”

“I matched with him.” She looked at her nails. “Remember how I was showing you his profile before Marinette got to the bar? We matched.”

“Fuck, are you serious?” Alya heard some shuffling noises. She could perfectly picture Luka sitting down, shocked and probably acknowledging 11 am was a good time to get off the bed. “Nino? Nino Lahiffe? The famous producer? The one I’d give my life to work with?”

She rolled her eyes though her friend couldn’t see it. He could be so dense sometimes.

“Yeah, Nino Lahiffe. I just opened Tinder. And we matched. Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“Wow,” he whispered. She could also picture his hand that wasn’t holding the phone going through his hair as he talked to her. “This is_ insane_.”

“I know. Now wish me luck. I’m gonna text him first… He probably likes a girl with some attitude.”

Luka laughed.

“He’d better!” 

“And Luka...”

Alya didn’t know how to say or ask what she wanted, so she just waited.

“I know,” Luka said. “He’s friends with Adrienne. We should probably keep this to ourselves.”

They both knew what that meant: lying to their other friend, who’d feel betrayed if she ever found out about any of that.

“Thank you,” she answered, and then both hung up the phone.

_ There is no way to guess her reaction_, Alya thought to herself as she brushed her hair.

_ I better keep my mouth shut_, Luka thought to himself as he texted Lila.

There was some guilt, of course, but deep down they were just trying to protect Marinette— ironically, considering who she was.

In the end, Ladybug’s friends had their own secrets too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment/share it/give it kudos etc etc!!! i'll try to post chapter 4 (which is actually v important im so excited) by the end of the week but i can't do that without your support :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t hate blondes. They’re ok. Like when they save my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i hear someone ask for... marichat?? no?  
well, here it is anyway.

_ if i told you things i did before _

_ told you how i used to be _

_ would you go along with someone like me? _

* * *

Akuma attacks were not the only threat that Chat was constantly facing, but they sure were the most tiresome.

It was lunchtime, and she finally had some free time for herself after being woken up at 7 a.m. on a Sunday for a photoshoot. A thousand different products had been applied to her hair, trying to control and mold the blond of it into curls. A thousand more had been applied to her face and even to her body, trying to hide her freckles and scars and anything on her skin that could be considered _normal_. So, after the ridiculous dress she had been wearing was removed from her body and Nathalie allowed her to walk back home, she decided to turn into Chat Noir, telling Plagg she needed the freedom more than ever.

“You do you,” he said, eating the last of his camembert. “Just make sure to get me more cheese before we go back.”

As she leaped around Paris, feeling the wind through her hair and avoiding those annoying pigeons that were everywhere, a few memories kept coming back. She had seen that city fall to the ground too many times, but Ladybug was always able to bring it back exactly the way it was before, her miraculous powers fixing all of Hawk Moth’s deeds. Because of that, going from building to building, associating every block with a different fight, she couldn’t help but wonder about Hawk Moth, his motivations, and when (if) that would ever be done.

He had been their worst enemy since day one, back in the days when her partner wasn’t so sure she wanted to be Ladybug and Adrienne immediately jumped into action as Chat Noire, seeing that as an opportunity to free herself from work and, well, her dad. Adrienne had to be perfect, composed, even cold sometimes, not a single strand of hair out of place. Chat could be wild, impulsive, and the cameras around her were there to report, not to judge her. She felt free, even if meant giving up some of her time to fight people who were unhappy with their lives, being used by Hawk Moth.

Hawk Moth. There he was again. Though the threats he sent were not exactly difficult to deal with, she could see he had a purpose. Sometimes, it was to see how fast Chat and Ladybug could get to the place where the attack was happening; sometimes, it was to tire them out before he sent a bigger, more dangerous threat.

Sometimes, the akumatized people he sent were so absurd she almost felt sorry for him.

“There’s a giant baby destroying the city near the 6ème!” a civilian screamed.

_ See_, she thought to herself, _ Chloé isn’t wrong in calling him utterly ridiculous._

It was tiresome, and the ring on her finger was a constant reminder of everything she had to lose, which was way less than the city would lose if she failed. She turned around, hoping she’d get there before the giant baby destroyed the Jardin du Luxembourg. Not that it was a problem: Ladybug could fix it, as she always did. Still, she didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so she ran.

At that exact same time, not so far from the akuma, Marinette was eating her lunch with Alya.

* * *

Marinette loved the Jardin du Luxembourg.

She and Alya were eating sandwiches near the southeast corner where sitting on the grass was actually allowed. The Palais du Luxembourg was a view in the distance, flowers shining with the heat of summer, and people around them were talking and sharing food, too. It was hot, but the trees around them protected them from the sun. She loved everything about it.

Of course, Marinette loved Paris in general: the old architecture, the history that was so alive in the streets, the low buildings that allowed her to stay so close to the ground but so far from the people. It was the most beautiful city she’d ever been to... not that she’d been to many other places.

Being Ladybug, however, definitely took her to more rooftops than any tourist or Parisian had ever been too.

“Is that a giant baby?”

Alya suddenly stood up, interrupting her thoughts.

“What?”

And there it was, a giant baby. There was literally no other way to describe it: the creature had a big head, a comforter in its mouth, and was stumbling its way through the city, getting too close to the garden. 

“Are you kidding me?” Marinette mumbled as she stood up too.

Being Ladybug also meant she had to find a way to hide from her friend as soon as she saw that anomaly.

She turned to Alya, hands on her shoulders.

“We need to go.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“We’re going to different stations, though,” Marinette said, trying to come up with an excuse to separate from her friend. “I need to get something for work. It’s better if you go home.”

Alya, of course, didn’t look very convinced.

“I’m not going home. You know it’s my job to follow Ladybug, right? She’ll get here in just a few minutes.”

_ Yeah, she will, _ Marinette thought, _ but not if you keep her here. _

The baby was getting closer and closer, his steps causing what could be earthquakes. They could barely hear each other as people around them screamed and ran.

Marinette sighed.

“Ok, I guess. You do have a lot of experience with that.” She let go of Alya’s shoulders and then started walking to what should be another station, still not turning around. “Just, please, be careful? And text me when you get home?”

Alya rolled her eyes, grabbing her camera from her purse.

“I will!”

Marinette turned away and ran.

Leaving the Jardin was quite easy, but there were still too many people outside. Traffic, with the small earthquakes everywhere, was a mess.

She had to transform, but she couldn’t, not when she was so exposed.

There were too many people around her. Of course, most of them were running, but there were also Parisians who were somewhat used to the attacks and didn’t even bother running, and tourists who were too curious to move.

And, then, as the baby took another step, everything moved again. 

She lost balance, looking up as she fell. A small billboard near a bus stop was about to fall on her, and she had no time to get on her feet.

“Shit, Tikki,” she whispered.

She closed her eyes, covering her head with her arms_. I hope breaking a few bones is worth not revealing my identity. _

Before anything could happen, however, she felt a body collapsing into hers. It was someone taller, and they smelled like leather and expensive perfume. One of their arms went around Marinette, and she suddenly couldn’t feel the ground beneath her feet.

“Don’t worry,” a voice whispered in her ear. “I’m just taking you somewhere safe.” Marinette heard a laugh. “But I wouldn’t recommend opening your eyes if you’re scared of heights.”

She opened her eyes— not that she needed to. She would have recognized that voice anywhere.

Looking up, she could see Chat Noire’s chin, her hair a complete mess as she ran, leaping from building to building, holding Marinette by her waist with one hand and holding her baton with the other.

The girl felt like she was going to pass out.

* * *

Chat couldn’t save all the pedestrians on her way to akumas: she knew Ladybug’s miraculous would fix all the problems caused by the akuma in the end, so it was usually better for everyone if she just helped her partner. Still, she tried.

As she waited for Ladybug to contact her back, she carried old ladies and kids away from the park. When almost everyone had left the park and people seemed to be as safe as they could get, she left it too, calling Ladybug again before she decided to fight that giant thing by herself.

And Marinette was there, just outside, wearing the prettiest yellow dress and almost getting crushed by a billboard.

“That’s quite convenient,” she whispered, using her baton to push her to where Marinette was, telling herself that her saving the girl had nothing to do with her questionable feelings for her.

* * *

Chat didn’t take her too far. She went up simply to avoid the traffic and other pedestrians, but soon both were back on the ground, at the end of the street where Marinette had been. Marinette could still see the billboard in the distance, and goosebumps rose on her skin as she realized that definitely would have broken more than just a few bones.

“Now,” Chat said, letting go of Marinette. “You’re safe. I’ll distract that… whatever that is so it won’t leave the Jardin.”

“W-what are you doing here?” Marinette asked almost immediately.

The blonde furrowed her brows very briefly, an amused smile coming to her face. She twirled her baton and then cocked her head, hands on her waist.

“I’m saving Paris, of course. What are _ you _ doing here?”

Marinette looked down to where she had been, and suddenly realized the small billboard that almost fell on her head had Adrienne’s face on it, her smile big as she held _Adrienne, the fragrance _with her left hand. 

She snorted.

“Well, I’m being saved from Adrienne Agreste, apparently.”

Chat, who hadn’t noticed the billboard at all, so focused on saving Marinette, felt her heartbeat falter for a second. She couldn’t have heard it correctly. There was no logical explanation for Marinette knowing her name.

“What?” Her voice was no louder than a whisper.

Marinette pointed at the billboard, without taking her eyes away from Chat. It was weird being so close to her partner like that, noticing how their height difference seemed to be even bigger when she wasn’t transformed.

She tried very hard not to stutter, focusing on her hatred for Adrienne instead.

“Adrienne Agreste, Paris’ sweetheart. This annoying blonde you keep seeing in every billboard and bus stop in this city. Do you seriously not know who she is?”

Chat looked up, eyebrows raised in acknowledgment above her very green eyes. The way Marinette had said _annoying blonde _was hurtful, but also somewhat funny. Did she really notice how Adrienne’s face was everywhere? That was very interesting.

“You’re kinda off,” she said, head turning back to Marinette. “_Ladybug_ is Paris’ sweetheart.”

That made Marinette chuckle and blush, as if there was a private joke Chat was missing. She avoided her eyes.

“Well, I wish Ladybug’s perfume was being advertised everywhere if that meant I wouldn’t have to look at Agreste’s blond hair every single time I open a window.”

That actually made Chat’s heart hurt, without any amusement to it. So seeing Adrienne’s face everywhere made Marinette despise her even more? How was she supposed to control it? She was a model, after all.

It’s not like she _wanted _to annoy Marinette.

“Interesting,” Chat said, extending her baton right in front of her and using it to hold her weight as she leaned toward Marinette. “You don’t seem to like blondes, do you?”

And that definitely made Marinette blush. Trying to hide her discomfort, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“That’s not it.”

Then, she looked up at Chat’s hair, brighter than ever with the sunlight it was getting. It was pretty, like everything else about her. Very blond, so similar to Adrienne’s, but way more familiar to Marinette, in a way that Chat herself could not imagine. 

She had touched it before, knew what it felt like. She had to hug herself to avoid doing it again.

“I don’t _hate _blondes. They’re ok. Like when they save my life.” That was the most she could say without stuttering again. And it definitely sounded better in her head.

Chat’s eyes got noticeably bigger before she started laughing.

“You’re kinda funny, aren’t you?”

The baby took another step, and this time it was followed by a loud cry. Apparently, he didn’t have his comforter anymore.

“You better go,” Marinette said. She looked around and realized they were almost alone.

Perfect. As soon as Chat left, she could transform into Ladybug.

“Are you sure?” Chat asked, a smirk on her face. “Don’t want me to save you from Adrienne Agreste again?”

Marinette closed her eyes. Way to make a fool of herself in front of the girl she liked.

“Ladybug must be waiting for you,” she explained. “And this baby really needs someone to put him to sleep.”

Chat looked at her through narrowed eyes, but didn’t say much else. A small smile, sad and amused at the same time, crossed her face.

“I’m going back to milady, then.”

As she turned around and extended her baton even more, a clear gesture that she was already leaving, Marinette screamed her name. She hadn’t planned to, in fact she didn’t even notice what she was doing until the name was already leaving her mouth. Something felt wrong about just letting Chat believe that she had anything against her.

The superhero turned around.

“You need me?”

“I know it sounds stupid but I want you to know that I don’t…” Marinette ran out of words. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then left her hand there as she touched her neck, trying to pace her thoughts. “I don’t have anything against blondes, you know. I think you’re super cool, saving Paris and helping m–” she gulped, “helping _Ladybug _like that. It’s very nice of you.”

Chat smiled again, but it faltered when Marinette continued. “I just don’t like Adrienne Agreste in particular.”

There was a small pause as Chat looked up, still holding her baton, and then back to Marinette.

“Thank you for letting me know, I guess. That was sweet. Have a great day, Dupain-Cheng.”

And then she left, leaving Marinette alone to transform.

“She knows my name,” she whispered, though that was barely a surprise. Chat was their age, and she had indicated a few times before that she liked fashion.

“Yes, she does,” Tikki responded, ignoring how that had not been a question. “Can we transform into Ladybug now? The Jardin du Luxembourg won’t survive much longer.”

Marinette bit her lip.

“Yeah. Of course. Sorry.”

So she transformed into Ladybug, immediately getting into action and apologizing to Chat for taking so long. They acted differently when both were in their suits, a totally different dynamic, and she couldn’t help but feel weird about the fact that Chat recognized her civilian identity.

Did Chat like Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Did she follow her on social media? Did she have friends who did?

She forced herself to stop thinking about that. None of that would help her win the fight. It was a stupid akuma, probably one of most ridiculous yet, but its size made the fight very long.

After it was over, however, she went back to the same thoughts. She hugged Chat Noire, smelling her expensive perfume, and thanked her for her great work. She transformed back into Marinette and walked home, trying to laugh when Tikki made fun of her for blushing so much around her partner.

Then, alone in her room, she spent a good part of her afternoon wondering if she knew Chat’s real name, too.

* * *

Alya was eating ice cream when she got the text.

_ Hey_, it said. The number was one she had just saved.

_ nino?_, she replied.

It didn’t take long for him to answer. _ Yeah. _

She didn’t say much else. She was the one who asked for his number, after all, so now it was his turn to show any interest. 

_ So, uh. Both my best friends are busy today and my gig for the afternoon was canceled. Haha. _

Well, he did show some interest, even if it was in a somewhat shy way. The girl laughed, startling people around her in the ice cream shop, but she didn’t care.

_are you asking me if i’m free?_

_You’re so much better at this than I am. Yeah. Are you free today?_

He then texted again.

_I know it’s very short notice, sorry about that. _

She looked around, trying to hold her smile.

_i’m at my favorite ice cream shop in the 6ème, by the seine. can you come? _

His reply almost caused her to drop her ice cream in excitement.

_Be there in 15 minutes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for all the sweet comments! this week was kinda hard but reading all the comments put the biggest smile on my face, srsly (genuinely got tears in my eyes reading some of them)  
once again, please share it/give kudos/comment on it. and thank u tiffany and lara you're amazing!
> 
> i'm trying to make this a weekly thing as you can see, so see you next week? mwah


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrienne and Marinette (finally) meet again.

**** _ i know you’re dying to meet me _

_ but i can just tell you this _

_ baby as soon as you meet me _

_ you’ll wish that you never did. _

* * *

Adrienne woke up early that morning— or, well, maybe she hadn’t been able to close her eyes at all. Long nights had become more and more common as she moved in her sheets, trying to find the perfect and impossible position that would lead her to fall asleep peacefully. But it never happened: the more she could get was, if she was lucky enough, a couple of hours. Never a full night of sleep, never a full night free of nightmares.

Not ever since her mom disappeared.

“Morning, Plagg,” she said, accepting her defeat and rolling to her side, grabbing her phone so she could see the time. It was even earlier than she thought it was.

Plagg simply grumbled at her, and she sighed.

She was supposed to feel tired, exhausted after such few hours of sleep. She wanted to be able to stay there, lying down for a few more minutes, letting herself rest for as long as she could.

Instead, her anxious brain was telling her to leave her bed, brush her teeth, and prepare herself for the day that had just begun. It was telling her that she could have the perfect life if she wanted to, and that many envied everything she had been born with. It was telling her that she couldn’t be late, she could _never _be late, otherwise she’d miss all the opportunities her father had given her. And what would she do without him? What would she do if her dad realized she was a complete failure?

She barely saw him even when she behaved her best. The thought of disappointing him and losing another parent forever was enough to free her of any sleep.

So, no, she couldn’t stay in bed forever, and much less complain about her privileged life like that. Using one of her elbows to support her weight, she uncovered herself and leaned toward Plagg’s lair.

“I said _good morning_, Plagg,” she tried again.

The kwami whined again, and she smiled._ It really must suck for him to have a morning person as his owner._

As she opened her mouth to say that, she heard a knock on her door, and Nathalie entered the room. She never understood why Nathalie even knocked if she would enter the room anyway.

“Thought I heard your voice. Morning, Adrienne,” she said, heels clicking as she grabbed the remote and used it to open the curtains.

“Yeah.” Adrienne sat up. “I was just sending an audio message to my friends.”

Nathalie pierced her eyes, going around the room to stand right in front of Adrienne’s bed.

“I want to remind you that sleeping with your phone so close to you can be detrimental to your mental health.”

_Funny_, Adrienne thought. _I’m pretty sure not being able to talk to my friends can be detrimental too. _

“I was just checking the time and then saw their texts,” she said instead. “Besides,” she continued, standing up, “it’s not like I have my notifications on or anything.”

It was kind of passive-aggressive, the way she said that. Sometimes, Nathalie would keep her phone away from her when she was really busy or had to concentrate on a photo shoot, and that always annoyed the blonde. There was no lack of privacy as Nathalie didn’t have her password or anything. Still, it had caused Adrienne to deactivate notifications from all her apps, even the silliest ones.

Nathalie didn’t seem to catch the irony in her words.

“Good. That’s good for you,” she followed Adrienne as the model walked to the bathroom. “And I hope you didn’t forget you have a meeting with Audrey in two hours.”

Of course, Adrienne hadn’t forgotten about it. Audrey was one of the few people in the industry that she actually liked: she was hard to please, yes, but lovely to those willing to give her what she wanted.

It was actually one of the few appointments she’d been excited for.

“I didn’t.” Adrienne turned around, holding the bathroom’s door. “Do you know what it is about?”

Nathalie shook her head.

“No. But she’s your father’s old friend so I figured you should go.”

Adrienne nodded.

“Of course. I’ll just take a shower.”

“Gorilla will be waiting for you downstairs. Be there in forty minutes.” Nathalie turned around, leaving the room. But before she reached the door, she paused.

“What now?” Adrienne asked.

Not saying anything, Nathalie slowly opened Adrienne’s closet and tossed a green dress on the bed. “Be presentable. You know how important this is for your dad.”

Adrienne nodded again and closed the door without saying anything.

She turned on the shower and washed her short hair, hands going easily through it, massaging her skull.

_It’s easy_, she repeated to herself. _I have it easy. Anyone would give anything to be in my place, meeting Audrey Bourgeois, wearing expensive dresses, and working for the best fashion designer in Paris. _

She repeated and repeated that, hoping the words would get through her head and make her accept the life she had.

She told herself she couldn’t feel her tears as they felt down, mixing with the water that fell on her, making it salty and incredibly sad.

* * *

Despite her complaints, Marinette loved her internship.

As she walked around tables and tables covered with fabrics, sewing machines, notebooks, more fabrics, belts, patchwork, and designs by other designers, she smiled a bit to herself.

When did she get so lucky, being able to do what she loved every single day?

She rubbed her eyes and yawned, no one else around her to see her funny face as she did so. She had arrived before her usual shift because Mrs. Bourgeois told her she had something urgent to tell her.

_I hope all of this is about Paris Fashion Week_, Marinette thought. She didn’t know that just a few minutes later she’d regret wishing that.

“You’re early, at last.”

That was Mrs. Bourgeois, blonde hair and expensive perfume exhaling from her. She was not wearing her usual sunglasses, which was always weird for Marinette as she never got quite used to how big Mrs. Bourgeois’ eyes were. Her thin lips were curved down, but that didn’t mean she was unhappy— or annoyed, the most plausible possibility.

In fact, if you looked closer, you could see that she was trying to hide a smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Bourgeois.”

The blonde raised a thin, playful eyebrow. “I told you to call me Audrey.”

“That was a few months ago.” Marinette tried to hold her smile. “I don’t think that’s happening now.”

Truth was, she had a really good relationship with Audrey. Which was weird, considering how the so-called Queen of Fashion seemed to intimidate everyone. And even weirder, considering how much Marinette hated her daughter.

But Audrey didn’t know about that— or didn’t care. She supported Marinette’s career and had become a mentor to the girl, giving her many incredible opportunities that she couldn’t even imagine when she was in high school. Marinette was, of course, more than grateful.

Audrey didn’t really touch anything as she walked toward her office, on the other side of the atelier, hands with long nails in the air. One could think she was too finicky and demanding, but Marinette knew that avoiding the mundane was something Audrey did without even paying attention. Her hands were for more important things.

“Do you know why I called you so early? Not too early for you, I hope.”

The sky outside was still orange as the sun found its way to it. It _was _really early, but Marinette couldn’t acknowledge that.

“I’m used to that,” Marinette lied. “I actually consider myself a morning person.”

The way Audrey’s cheeks moved indicated that she was forming a knowing smile, but she didn’t question Marinette. “I just needed to introduce you to someone who’s not always available,” she said.

Marinette’s heart bumped. Audrey turned around as she opened the door.

“You can go back to sleep after you meet her, _morning person_.”

Well, she didn’t _immediately _question Marinette.

They both went inside Audrey’s office, a square piece with glass walls and a white table occupying the center. There were many framed magazines hanging on the wall behind her— all of them, of course, had a picture of Audrey Bourgeois on the cover, or of someone she had mentored, from models to designers. One of the covers right in the middle of the wall showed Chloé Bourgeois and Adrienne Agreste, laughing at each other at some beach in the south of France. They were wearing matching outfits, strapless one-piece swimsuits that revealed their perfect, long, photoshopped legs and arms in a totally unnatural way.

Somehow, that infuriated Marinette every single time she entered that room.

This time, however, distracted by other thoughts she sat down quickly and thought about what Audrey had just said. _ Her_, Marinete would be meeting _ her_, so it couldn’t be Gabriel Agreste. Who else, then? There were so many amazing female designers. None of them matched Marinette’s vision as well as Gabriel Agreste, though.

Marinette held a sigh.

“Should I bring my sketchbook? I’m sure this person will want to see some of my designs.”

To Marinette’s surprise, Audrey simply gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Oh, no, she’s not a fashion designer. You’ve met plenty of them already, Marinette. You’ve gained enough attention in this industry and showed what you’re capable of. There’s no need to learn from them unless they’re the heads of this industry.”

Sometimes Marinette thought Audrey overestimated her abilities, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she asked a more important question.

“Who am I meeting with, then?”

“Someone who can make your name unforgettable if we get her to cooperate with you.”

That made Marinette furrow her eyebrows. If that person wasn’t Gabriel Agreste, how would she be able to help Marinette’s career like that?

How powerful was she, if Audrey, already powerful enough, considered her another force?

“Is this someone we’ve talked about before?” Marinette asked, immediately biting her lip after that.

But Audrey didn’t answer. With a sly smile, she looked at her Apple Watch. It was 8:29.

“She’s coming. She’s the most punctual person I know. Maybe she can teach you some lessons on that, too.”

Then, Marinette heard the elevator as it stopped on their floor, the 8th floor. Then, she heard high heels coming fast from it, straight to Audrey’s office. She didn’t turn around, as she didn’t want to look too anxious.

The time on the clock changed to 8:30.

The door behind Marinette opened. Audrey smiled, standing up.

“Oh, there she is.”

Marinette put on her best smile, looking to her side and up as a woman approached the table, raising her hand to shake Audrey’s. She had blond hair, too, though a fairer tone, and wore a green off-the-shoulder dress with puffy sleeves that could not have cost less than a thousand euros. Recognition rose like a monster inside Marinette, but she tried to hold it down. 

That could not be happening. That girl right there had to be another 1.80 meters tall blonde, not the one that Marinette knew and that— she could see it now, right in front of her as the blondes shook hands— also had a small butterfly tattooed on her right wrist.

“I’m so happy I could make it, Audrey! What is it you wanted to talk about?”

As she lowered her hand and her whole face was exposed to Marinette, though, reality became undeniable. Even from this not-so-favorable angle, she was gorgeous.

She looked down to Marinette, and her smile faltered.

Marinette knew that if someone put a mirror between them at that moment, they would not be able to differentiate their own expression from the other’s. Because standing right there, gorgeous, tall, blonde, and with big green eyes that could cut through anyone’s soul, was Adrienne Agreste.

And she was Marinette’s most beautiful enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well,,, that was a lot wasn't it,,,  
thank u guys for all your comments and support <3 don't forget to let me know if you're enjoying this hehe


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally meet. And Audrey Bourgeois surprises them both.
> 
> Alternatively: Marinette can’t stop paying attention to literally every single one of Adrienne’s features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> marinette’s so fucking gay i fucking can’t!!!!!

_ Want the girls with the lips _

_ And the cascading hair _

_ Little do we all know that the vanity we see _

_ We all share, we all share _

_   
_

* * *

Marinette's eyes were glued to the green of Adrienne’s. She had seen a fair share of pretty eyes, but none of them were quite like the pair in front of her: those were impossibly green, round and shining like emeralds near the pupils, but turning into something closer to ocean green then, with angled, elegant, perfectly done eyebrows adorning everything. They made everything around Marinette look bland, and even Adrienne's fancy dress, a true work of fashion design that had probably been created by Gabriel Agreste himself, couldn't compete for her attention.

No. Adrienne's eyes were everything she could focus on.

"Oh. Dupain-Cheng. I didn't expect to see you here."

Though the room had been chilly a few seconds before, it was suddenly warm, causing sweat to appear and quickly moisten Marinette's forehead. She couldn’t tell if it was really the room that had gotten warmer, or if her anxious heart was just playing tricks with the rest of her body— probably the second option, considering how her hands were still cold, yet sweating, and holding to the chair as if it was about to fall to pieces.

She only then realized Adrienne, _ fucking Adrienne Agreste_, had spoken her name and she hadn't answered. A lump formed in her throat, and she gulped.

"Hi, Agreste."

Her voice sounded much stronger than she felt as anxiety kicked in. She hoped her expression was as cool as Adrienne's, not denouncing her surprise at the presence of the model standing right in front of her.

_Audrey, what are you doing?_

Her boss still had that small, sly smile on her face. Marinette just knew that that could not be a good sign.

"I assume you've met before, right?"

As Audrey asked that, eye contact was finally broken. Marinette sat still, eyebrows raised at her boss, a clear question that Audrey was purposely choosing to ignore. Adrienne, who had been standing up, moved the chair in front of her and sat beside Marinette, acting ever so naturally, pretending she didn't hear the question.

She suddenly had a big, ready smile on her face.

_Of course, she can smile through this and act her way out of it. What a perfect model._

_Disgusting._

“Wow, it’s chilly here, isn’t it, Audrey?”

To Marinette's dismay, Audrey didn’t answer Adrienne's question either. She held a speculative finger on her chin, eyes going back and forth from Adrienne to Marinette, a constant and knowing smile changing her features.

“You’ve met before. I know you have.”

Marinette moved uncomfortably in her chair and noticed Adrienne doing the same.

That couldn’t be happening. She had listed every single fashion designer who could be in Paris, completely sure she was going to meet one of them. Then, when Audrey made it clear that the person wasn't a fashion designer, she tried to make a mental list of influencers who were relevant enough to her career.

She had never imagined it would be Adrienne Agreste— Audrey's daughter's best friend, Audrey's best friend's daughter, Paris' sweetheart, _ Marinette's idol's daughter_,— though she should have. And now she felt tongue-tied, unable to answer any of the questions or implications without denouncing her true feelings.

"Have we?" Adrienne asked, almost too innocently, still facing Audrey. She touched her lower lip with one finger, and her hand seemed to shake a little bit when she did so, a sign of distress that almost caught Marinette's attention, almost made her feel some compassion for the model. Almost. _ Almost_.

Adrienne indeed had her reasons to feel nervous about the whole conversation, considering the whole… well, fiasco she had caused in the past year, almost ruining Marinette's career. But Marinette? With her stupid tweets and clear disgust for the model and, well, her boss's daughter? Wow. It was a miracle that her hands weren't shaking, too.

"Wait. Yes!" Adrienne raised a finger, and her grin got so much bigger and livelier that it almost made Marinette cringe. _ Wow. No one else's smile could make me feel this nauseous_. "I remember it! Paris Fashion Week last year!"

Adrienne didn't look at Marinette at all as she said that. And it took everything in Marinette's power not to sneer.

But she did snort a little when she noticed small dimples in the model's cheeks.

"Yeah," the designer confirmed, not a single emotion in her voice, hoping her gaze could go through Adrienne's perfect skin and hurt the model in some way. "Paris Fashion Week."

The more she thought about it, however, the more it made sense.

She could understand, after all, why Audrey had been so secretive, why that smirk wouldn’t leave the place. Yes, she loved her boss. Yes, Audrey had never been cruel to her.

But she had been working there for more than a year, which had been enough for her to observe how Audrey would push her team to their limits, make them question their motivations to be there— which obviously led to many resignations and dismissals. If Audrey had tested everyone, trying them again and again, what would stop her from eventually testing Marinette, too?

Marinette didn’t know how much she knew, but there was definitely a purpose. And she wouldn’t disappoint Audrey.

“Paris Fashion Week,” Audrey echoed. “Sounds lovely. Bet that was amazing,” she continued, taking a sip from a glass of water on her table. Then, when none of the girls said anything, she finally inspected Marinette, her eyes waiting for any reactions. “Adrienne, Marinette and I are so happy to have you here! Aren’t we, Marinette?”

The designer gave Audrey a confused, questioning look, hoping Adrienne couldn’t see her uneasiness. She had had more than enough time to process all of it, and she wanted Audrey to know she wasn’t asking _what _she was doing, but _why_.

“We are…?”

“Yes, we are!”

Audrey stood up, but her hands were still on the table as she leaned forward, so that she and Adrienne were almost on the same eye level.

“Because you, Adrienne, are gonna be our star.”

There was nothing but silence in the room. Marinette could hear the air-conditioning, the tick of Adrienne’s expensive, golden Swiss watch, her own quick breath as she tried to make sense of what Audrey had just said.

“What?” Adrienne asked.

“We need a model. Marinette needs a model at least. And your father has agreed that you’d be the perfect fit for that.”

Adrienne turned to stare at Marinette. Her brows were furrowed in confusion, her right hand was holding her short hair behind her ear.

“Is that true?”

Marinette wanted to face Audrey again, ask her what to say, even scream at her for not telling her anything about this supposed conversation with Gabriel Agreste, her _favorite designer _Gabriel Agreste, who was willing to let his daughter work with Marinette. But that was her moment to shine and prove to Audrey she could face any challenge thrown at her, and screaming would _definitely _mean just the opposite.

So she avoided Adrienne’s sincere eyes. And she lied.

“Yes. I need a famous model. Nothing would help my career more than that.”

“And you’ll also be designing with Marinette, too!” Audrey interrupted, and Marinette tried not to wince. “She’ll be teaching you how to put your ideas into paper, and how to bring them to reality. Your father has mentioned you’re interested in composing your own pieces, so that would be helpful to you too.”

“My _father _said that?”

Audrey shrugged. “He has a heart, after all.”

Adrienne didn’t say much else. She stared at her own manicured hands, holding tight to the chair— just like Marinette’s— and chuckled.

“Wow.”

Audrey chuckled too, though that sounded way less sincere.

“So, you’re in?”

The smile that suddenly appeared on Adrienne’s face was big, shiny, full of white teeth. An actual, sincere smile this time.

“I have to talk to Nathalie and figure out how I’m going to make this work with my schedule but… this is amazing. I definitely want this.” She turned to Marinette again, her smile almost apologetic. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Marinette wasn’t expecting her to say yes, much less _thank _her for something she had no idea about until a few seconds before.

She wanted to vomit.

“You’re welcome,” Marinette said instead, grabbing Adrienne’s right shoulder and giving her the slightest, cutest fake smile. She’d lost this match, but she could still win the next. “I can’t wait to work with you!”

* * *

Two missions: design one dress for Chloé... and something for Adrienne.

That was Audrey had told the girls, before making sure they gave each other their phone number. Chloé’s birthday was approaching very fast— Marinette wasn’t surprised to find out that she was a Leo— and they’d need to simply adapt one of Marinette’s many previous creations for that. Easy-peasy. They had less than three weeks to make it work, but easy-peasy.

The hardest part was coming up with something for _ Adrienne_. Creativity and exclusivity for Marinette meant getting to know the person, letting their personality mold the clothes just as much as Marinette’s own designing style. It was ok to use an old creation for Chloé, and the changes would probably come from the blonde herself, or even from Adrienne, who was close enough to her to know what she liked. She had worked for Chloé before— and though that didn’t work out well, she knew just what she needed to do.

But something _exclusive _to Adrienne? Something personal and elaborate and delicate, which both of them would create together from scratch? Marinette wasn’t sure she could make that. Or, better said, she knew she could.

She just didn’t _want _to.

“Mrs. Bourgeois, are you sure you want me to design something for _Adrienne Agreste_? Isn’t that… too much?”

The name tasted so bitter in Marinette’s mouth that she couldn't do it out loud without frowning.

Audrey didn’t bother. She was back on her chair, where she had been since Adrienne left the room to go to another photoshoot. Her long nails were tapping on the table.

The clicking sound stopped as she interlocked her fingers.

“What do _you_ think, Marinette? Is that too much?”

Suddenly, Marinette seemed to completely understand the sly smile that had been planted on Mrs. Bourgeois’ face the whole time. She hadn’t just been excited about testing Marinette: she knew it would be a fun test, one that would take Marinette out of her comfort zone and beg for mercy.

Hell, she probably knew about everything that went on between Adrienne and her.

“It’s not too much,” Marinette retracted. “I just wasn’t ready for that.”

“Scared of working with a big name?”

“Not exactly. Just not sure about what either of us is getting from it.”

Audrey’s eyes were almost... pitiful.

“Marinette. You’re gonna work for Adrienne, you’re gonna see each other at least twice a week, and you’re gonna act as if it was your idea. That’s the end of it.”

“But I don’t see the point of it.”

“She’s famous. She can help you stay relevant.”

“I’m still relevant right now. Juleka Couffaine will wear anything I design and her band is kinda famous.”

“She’s not a model.”

“She could be.”

“She isn’t. No one will care about her when her little band stops existing.”

Marinette shook her head. She knew it was useless to argue against Audrey’s decisions.

“I can’t do that,” she said, more to herself than to her boss. But it was loud. And Audrey heard it.

To Marinette’s remorse, Audrey finally stopped grinning and lowered her sunglasses back to cover her eyes. 

“We all have to do things we’re not comfortable with. Grow up.”

“I am comfortable. I just don’t think Agreste will be, considering it’s the first time she isn’t working with her father’s crew.”

Audrey pinched her nose, her sign that she didn’t want to listen to another word. If Marinette could see her eyes, she was sure they’d be closed in annoyance.

“Can you stop lying to me?”

Marinette froze in place.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you think your stupid tweet wasn’t gonna get to me? My daughter told me everything about it.”

Audrey shrugged. Marinette simply tried to keep her mouth shut, pressing lips firmly.

“I knew you didn’t like each other,” she continued, relaxing back on the chair, “I just didn’t know there was some kind of personal vendetta too.”

“They almost ruined—” Marinette tried, but was interrupted by Audrey once again.

“_Chloé _can be difficult. You’ll find out that _Adrienne_, not so much. Besides,” she seemed to soften a bit, “this might be your chance to get closer to Gabriel Agreste. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I guess it is.” Marinette bit her lip. “But are you sure Miss Agreste won’t be—”

“Marinette, please, she loves everything about this.” Audrey removed the sunglasses and then massaged her temples like she was having a terrible headache. Her eyes were closed. “Don’t test me nor waste my time any longer. I’m doing you a favor.”

There had to be a way around it, but Marinette didn’t want to risk getting fired. Audrey loved her, supported her, and she knew that getting on her bad side was one of the quickest ways to ruin her career. So she stood up, admitting defeat twice in a day.

“Of course, Audrey. Just making sure we’re all on the same page.”

“Maybe you aren’t. But Adrienne and I definitely are.”

Audrey looked back to her papers. That was the end of the conversation.

But as Marinette opened the door to leave, she heard her boss saying one last thing, and she could swear she could hear laughter in her voice.

“I really can’t wait to see you two working together!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you SOOO MUCH for the support guys!!! seriously!!!!!!! i love reading your comments it really gave me the energy i needed to finish writing this chapter... hope you liked it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette tells Alya and Luka about her new project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: dude you need to... you know... advance the story... but like with more than character development... SHIT NEEDS TO HAPPEN... THINGS... NEED TO HAPPEN...  
also me: anyway here's a chapter that ended up way longer than i expected where nothing but character development happens bc i just love writing these dipshits

**** _ taking every chance to find solutions _

_ that never make anyone happy _

* * *

“So, did Audrey fire you or what?”

Marinette was in bed, facetiming her two best friends and hoping that the pink popsocket between her fingers would stop the phone from falling on her face. She’d stayed in Audrey’s office for another two hours after the disastrous meeting, trying to work on her next collection and quickly figuring out that her inspiration to draw and desire to sew were gone, making any work she could think of doing an arduous task. Audrey, noticing her distress, had told her to go back home.

“Rest for a bit,” she said. “Work with Adrienne starts soon, and I want you to be ready for that.”

So there she was, back home in time for lunch, lying on her back with her knees up. On her phone's screen, she could see Luka and Alya staring back at her— the former from a studio where his band was composing and recording new songs, and the latter from her own room.

Marinette immediately recognized all the vlogger equipment behind Alya. She knew those cameras and mics too well: not because she'd been to Alya's house too many times as a teenager, but because they'd follow her everywhere as Ladybug, even when she warned her friend to be cautious and stay away from akumas.

“Worse," she finally answered, almost whining. "Much worse.”

"Are you serious?" Luka bit the apple he had on his hand. "I don't think there's anything worse than getting fired from a job you love."

"Trust me. There is._ This _ is worse."

Alya looked concerned.

"This sounds serious. Can I try to guess?"

"Go ahead."

"She... publicly exposed you..." then, Alya's serious face suddenly turned into a smirk. "for having a crush on Chat Noire?”

Marinette sighed deeply. If only she knew...

“No, Alya. She didn’t. Because I don't.”

"_Sure_." Alya sneered. "You really think I believe that you have all these super exclusive pics of Chat Noire on your phone because you _love her costume_."

And _that _was something that Marinette didn't really expect and never really knew how to answer. She had told Alya before that she was just a fan of Chat's leather costume and how it showed a lot without really revealing the superhero's identity. Alya didn't buy any of that… mainly because of the way Marinette had gotten red looking at the pictures.

Before Marinette could lie again, Luka— thankfully— interrupted the conversation.

“Can you tell us what happened?" The wall moved behind him as he stood up to throw his apple in a trash can. "I’m starting to get worried here. I can help you find a job if you wanna quit.”

Alya snorted.

"Luka,_ you_ don't even have an actual job."

"I _play _in a _band_."

"Exactly. That's too much fun to be an actual job."

Luka's eyebrows went down, his voice higher-pitched.

"You literally run after Ladybug and get paid to create theories about her identity."

To that, Alya simply shrugged, or seemed to shrug, while raising a single eyebrow.

"So?"

"Marinette, can you help me here? Alya is being disrespectful."

When the two of them decided to fight, Marinette simply watched. There was always a pattern: Luka would say something cute, Alya would bait him, and he would immediately fall into her trap. Marinette would also fall into Alya's trap quite often before realizing her friend was just making fun of her.

Seeing Luka pout when Alya was clearly just playing with him was just too much fun for her to say anything– in fact, Alya was probably doing that to distract Marinette, knowing her friend probably had some pretty bad news to tell. So she simply covered her face with the hand that wasn't holding the phone, trying to hide her smile.

"You guys are like two little kids sometimes."

"Wait. I can't believe this. You are _laughing _at me!" Luka's face was a mix of fake indignation and disgust, but he was laughing too.

The three of them kept bickering and teasing Luka until Alya interrupted it.

"Ok. Enough with the comic relief. Marinette, tell us what happened."

She bit her lip. There was no way she could tell them. Saying the words out loud would make it all real, even more real than when she had Adrienne Agreste sitting right beside her, the smell of expensive _Adrienne_ cologne filling the room, the green and super expensive _Agreste_ dress shining against the model's fair skin.

No. There was no way she could tell them. But she kind of wanted to.

She sighed. "I'm working with Adrienne Agreste."

To her surprise, no one said anything. Luka coughed.

"I'm sorry. Working with who?"

She furrowed her brows.

"Are you seriously gonna make me repeat her name?"

Silence filled the conversation again. They were all staring, not really at each other but at their phones, and everything they could hear was Rose's sweet and muffled voice.

But Alya had something to say. Marinette could feel, could see that, all so clear by the way her friend kept opening and closing her mouth.

"Alya. Just say it."

"I don't have anything to say."

"Don't lie."

"I don't wanna hurt you."

Marinette's gaze and voice were firm. "Just say it. I'm a big girl."

Alya rolled her eyes. "Ok. I'm saying it then. I _told_ you, and you didn't listen to me. I told you not to tweet that."

Luka almost whimpered at that. "Ouch. Can we change subjects, please?"

But Alya completely ignored him.

"You _know_ we trust you. All I was trying to do is making sure you didn't hurt yourself by accident. If you hadn't tweeted that, as I _told you_ not to, you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Why are you assuming this is related to that tweet?" Marinette asked.

"Oh, come _on_," Alya grabbed the latest edition of a fashion magazine behind her, opening it to a page where they could see a picture of Adrienne and a smaller one of Marinette. "Everyone was talking about it for _days_. I don't follow the fashion world and it still showed up on my timeline on Twitter."

"Yeah, Marinette," Luka confessed. "She's kinda right. Juleka told me everything about it, and even Ivan seemed to know all the details."

"That's because they know me. It makes sense that they'd hear about that considering someone they know is involved."

Alya groaned so loudly that it interrupted Marinette. She closed her eyes, using her free hand that wasn't holding her phone to massage one of her temples. Her tone was suddenly way calmer.

"Can you stop being so stubborn and admit that I was right for once?"

"I'm not-"

"Marinette, for real. I love you, but I have a lot of work to do. I'm really trying here."

Alya's tone was suddenly way calmer— she was clearly controlling herself not to scream— and that scared Marinette. 

All her life, she had dreamt of becoming a fashion designer. For years and years, she carried sketchbooks with her, creating new pieces whenever she was bored, looking for the perfect chance to show her work to any famous designer who could help her.

And, then, Audrey had noticed her. She had seen one of Marinette's dresses that the designer had actually intended to give to Alya for her birthday, and told Marinette she'd give her one chance,_ the _one chance to show her work to the world… but Chloé, her precious little daughter, would have to wear the dress.

Marinette didn't want to do it at first. It was her favorite creation, she had worked on it for months, and she couldn't wait to see Alya wearing it. But it was such a great opportunity, and Alya had encouraged her so much, that she ended up doing it anyway.

And, well, that proved out to be the best and most stressful day of her life.

So, yeah, she knew she could be absurdly stubborn when it came to Chloé and Adrienne and whoever else was their friend, but she always thought of it as a mechanism of defense. She didn't want her friends to get annoyed at her for that, too.

Marinette sighed.

"I'm sorry," she looked down. "It's just… scary."

"That you're working with Adrienne?" Luka asked.

She shook her had. "No. This whole thing. Being forced to do something I don't want yet again because it can help my career."

"You don't have to_ like _her," Alya explained, almost pitifully. "You just need to get the job done."

Marinette laughed sarcastically. "Problem is… I do. Audrey made sure to act as if it was_ all my idea_. Can you imagine that? Adrienne thinks I _actually_ want to do this. This is all gonna be a huge act."

"Why would she do that?" Luka opened his mouth, looking seriously shocked, never fully understanding the shenanigans of the entertainment world though he was a part of that. 

"I don't know." She shrugged. "But it's not fair. I hate talking about this. They almost… I almost had my career ruined that day. All because some stupid blondies thought it would be fun to change plans last minute." She looked at the ceiling, trying to hold the tears inside her eyes. "So I'm sorry for being stubborn. But I just really, really love my job and don't wanna have it ruined. I'm so stressed out. I can't pretend I'm ready to forgive all that happened."

Alya, who was also stubborn in her own way, having such a hard time trying to understand why her friend disliked Adrienne so much when everything worked out _just fine_ in the end, sighed.

"Girl, I'm sorry, too." She tried to put all her compassion into words. "For real. Thank you for opening up, I know it's hard for you to talk about this. I know they hurt you, I know you're stressed out about work, and I shouldn't try to force you to forgive them or anything."

Marinette nodded, and she felt the warmth of tears falling down her face.

"Yeah." Luka agreed, shouting a little bit so they could hear him above Rose's singing voice. "But like… this is your career we're talking about. You're so, so much better than them, Mari. It's time to move on. I want you to feel free, and that won't happen when you have some of the biggest names in the industry against you." He raised her brows. "Wait, you're crying? Oh, fuck. I wish I could come to your place right now."

And she _was_ visibly crying. She could see her own rosy nose on the screen and felt stupid for that.

"I'm sorry, guys. It's nothing, really."

"Don't be sorry." Alya pouted. "We love you, girl. We just want the best for you. You can do this. Whatever Audrey is forcing you to do, you can totally get over it and do your best."

"You can also just quit." Luka shrugged. He was clearly distracted by the noise around him in the studio but still tried to support her.

"No. Never." Marinette cleaned her tears with the back of her hand. "I love my job. I just… need to grow up and do things that make me uncomfortable, I guess," she explained, echoing Audrey's words. "Whatever that means."

Alya smiled.

"I know, it sucks. It sucks having to do things we're uncomfortable with and living through old traumas." She then stopped, raising one eyebrow. "But, like, you're friends with your ex, right? "

Marinette chuckled. "I guess so."

"That was not an easy breakup, and you thought you wouldn't be able to face him. But here you are, _facetiming _him! Telling him about your personal life and job!"

"Alya..."

"Even though he's annoying and smells, you're still his friend. See, you can do this!"

"Alya, stop," Marinette said, though she was having fun. "He probably can't even hear us now."

It took Luka a moment to realize they were talking about him. He shook his head.

"Remind me why I'm friends with you again?"

"See, Mari. He even considers you to be his _friend_, though you guys didn't talk for like a year. That has to mean something."

"You're right, Alya. I can definitely become best friends with Adrienne. Nothing can be worse than dealing with Luka Couffaine after a breakup."

"But I- I didn't even-" he tried to start but immediately realized they were just baiting him again. "You're the worst friends I have, do you know that?"

Then, a low, hoarse voice in the background started talking and Luka turned around, not facing the camera anymore. Marinette could see purple hair just behind and above him, from someone standing up with arms reaching for Luka’s shoulders.

"Of course they're your worst friends, Luke. They're your _only _friends."

“Well," Luka started, facing the camera again and ignoring the long arms now tightening around him, giving him a hug. "You're definitely _not _my friend. Guys, Juls says hi.”

Juleka lowered herself and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I love you." She then smiled, looking at the camera. "Hey, guys. Stop making fun of my brother. Only I can do that."

“Hi, Juleka!"

"Hey, Juleka." Alya waved. "Of course we'll stop making fun of him. Sorry."

Juleka winked at them and left, leaving Luka completely bewildered.

"You're kidding me, right? You'll listen to her and not me?"

Marinette barely heard Juleka's voice as she shouted. "It's my lesbian superpowers."

Then they laughed again. They kept talking for a few more minutes about Luka's next concert with his band, Alya's new investigative project, Luka's new thing with Lila Rossi, and then, eventually, even Marinette's work. She clarified what exactly she had to design, and tried to focus more on her ideas for new dresses than on who she'd work it. It was a great conversation. A calm conversation, after everything she had revealed. An actually funny conversation. 

Almost funny enough to convince Marinette that she could _completely _pretend to like Adrienne Agreste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said this chapter ended up longer than i expected which means i just cut it in half. chapter 8 (where it's adrienne's turn to talk about what happened) should be coming soon. HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY IT and sorry if i keep bringing fillers i just aaa i love describing their angst and how they hate each other??? slkdjklf anyway bye (pls leave comments and kudos!!!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nino is not convinced. Adrienne loves parties. Kagami appears for the first time.

_ does what I'm saying seem to haunt you? well that's okay _

_ cause what I'm saying about you is not okay _

_ I’ve got it on my mind to change my ways _

_ but I don't think I can be anything other than me _

_ no, I don't think I can be anything other than me _

* * *

Thursday night in Agreste's mansion. From Adrienne's room, the sunset was perfectly visible, the sky slowly turning into orange, pink, and then into a color closer to purple. She was sitting on a chair by the window, cradling her smartphone on her shoulder so both her hands were free.

“I just don't get it.”

She was painting her own toenails black, knowing her dad would disapprove of that. Her hands were still perfectly manicured, so she didn't dare ruin them with her terrible nail painting skills.

But her feet were fine. Nathalie would probably not notice them. If she did, she'd only tell Adrienne to wear closed shoes instead. What a rebel.

"Don't get what?" Nino asked.

"Chloé's mom."

"What about my mom?"

Chloé was also in Adrienne's house, just leaving the bathroom. She had her hair in a bun and was wearing a short yellow skirt and a glittery white shirt.

They were both almost ready to go out.

"Yeah, Chloé is here," Adrienne told Nino. She then looked up at Chloé. "Nino says hi."

"I most definitely am. Hi, Nino." She sat on Adrienne's bed. "What was that about my mom?"

Adrienne sighed, laying her phone down on a table and switching the audio to the loudspeaker.

It had been some time since her meeting with Marinette and Audrey had happened, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. Not when she was supposed to start working with Marinette soon, very soon, maybe the next week, and was still unsure about any of the designer's true motivations.

"Chloé, we've talked about this. Marinette literally hates me. No way she was the one to come up with this idea. I'm sure this is one of your mom's tricks.”

"You don't know that. My mom would never do that."

"Liar."

"Maybe…" Nino started, his voice muffled by the speakers, "maybe Marinette's actually mature and don't really care about what happened?"

They went completely silent for a few seconds. And then Chloé laughed.

"Oh, come on, Nino. You can't really be_ that _naive." 

Adrienne pursed her lips. "I hate to agree with Chloé," Chloé let out a small "ouch!" that she ignored, "but that's true. You guys had to see her face when I brought up Paris Fashion Week."

Chloé crossed her arms. "She can't just_ let go _, can she?"

"From what I've heard, you guys never apologized." Nino started.

"What was there to apologize about? Her dress was ugly."

It was hard for Adrienne, genuinely thinking that Chloé was a good person but also knowing that the only reason Marinette hated her was because of her airhead of a best friend. And that hurt. Because the way Marinette treated her that day, that day when everything happened, was too similar to rejection. And though Marinette was someone she genuinely wanted to be friends with, she had dealt with enough rejection in her life.

"I tried. She wouldn't let me. And then it was just too awkward and too late." She didn't want to go further and explain how her own trauma made her feel terrible, how Marinette had explicitly told her to never contact her again, so she simply painted her last nail and appreciated her hard work, trying to smile through it. It looked terrible, but it looked real, like_ real _Adrienne, not_ perfect model _Adrienne. “I’m still happy my dad is letting me do this, though. Even if it was not_ her _idea, I'm happy she's agreed to do this.”

"Maybe she didn't agree to do that," Nino suggested.

If Adrienne had been paying enough attention, she'd see panic in Chloé's eyes.

"No," Adrienne simply said. "I'm sure Marinette wouldn't let Audrey force her to do something she dislikes. She'd just quit. She's too cool for that."

Chloé looked relieved for a few seconds, just until Nino started talking again.

"Maybe she's too scared she'll lose her job and doesn't have any other option? Sometimes I forget how privileged you guys are..."

That made Adrienne consider, but before she could answer, Chloé stood up.

"Enough. I don't care why Dupain-Cheng is doing this, I just care that this is a great chance for Adrienne to do something she actually enjoys, right Adrienne?"

Adrienne tilted her head.

"I've never really designed anything before. I'm just excited because it's something unrelated to my dad's brand and he's letting me do it."

"Great, that settles it then."

Adrienne stood up, too. She was wearing dark mom jeans and a mock neck black crop top. She looked for her black Converse just beneath her bed and grabbed it.

Chloé wrinkled her nose.

"I can't believe you're going out wearing_ mom jeans_ and_Converse_."

Nino's laugh was audible.

"Adri, you can't wear that, it will ruin your nails. Besides, I thought you guys were going to a casual thing?"

"Yeah," Adrienne grabbed a pair of open strap heels instead. "Just some old friends from school and Lila will be there. Maybe Kagami?"

"Yeah. Kagami. My_ favorite _lesbian." Chloé said, almost jumping in excitement.

"I thought Ladybug was your favorite lesbian?" Nino asked.

"Ladybug_ isn't _ a lesbian. I just wish she were one."

Adrienne raised one brow. "How can you be so sure Ladybug is straight?"

Chloé gave her a dismissive hand gesture that made her look too similar to her mother. "Come on. If she liked girls, you'd have hit that already."

That was all too funny to Adrienne, but not for the reasons their friends imagined.

No, Adrienne was completely wrong. Model Adrienne would never have a chance with busy Ladybug. But Superhero Adrienne? Chat Noire? She could try. She couldn't really see her partner in that way, not when her obsession for Marinette made everyone else look dull, but it was all very interesting.

And very stupid. Because, as much as she hated to agree with Chloé again, she did really think her partner was straight.

"Why will Lila be there, though?" Nino asked. "You guys know I think there's something off about her."

"For the record, I do too," Chloé answered.

Adrienne laughed, grabbing her phone.

"Come on, guys. She's friends with our friends. I know you want the best for me, but she's fun. We're just getting to know each other."

"You know," Nino started, "she's gonna get her heart broken when she realizes you have been obsessed with Marinette Dupain-Cheng for the past two years. And then she's gonna go full psycho."

Adrienne shook her head. "Now that's just sexist."

"I'm just saying..."

"Ok. Chloé and I need to leave. It was nice talking to you. You're sure you're not coming?"

"No," he sounded very tired. "Being a DJ made me realize I hate parties. I told you that."

"Ok. Bye. Love you."

"Love you, Adri. Bye, Chloé. Take care of her."

Adrienne rolled her eyes.

"I hate you guys."

"You innocent creature wouldn't survive a day without us," Chloé said, opening the door to the bathroom, where they knew there was a secret way out. "Bye, Nino. Love you."

* * *

Adrienne loved parties, even though her first real party had been a complete mess.

High school had just started, it was her first time not being homeschooled, and she was finally making friends. Real friendships. People who were able to see through the fact that she was famous and completely ignore that.

One of those friends was Nino Lahiffe. And he_ really _wanted to throw her first-ever birthday party.

"Come on," he'd said, "I'm sure your dad can't be that mean."

He had, of course, underestimated how much of an asshole Gabriel Agreste truly was. Adrienne's dad, a cold man in fine suits, wouldn't even let Nino enter the house.

"My daughter doesn't need a birthday party," he'd said, finally, looking down at Nino from the staircase, "she just needs better friends."

At that time, Adrienne was still searching for Gabriel's approval and love, behaving like the perfect daughter and never running away. So she defended her friend... but still complied.

Then, Nino's desire to make her happy led him to be akumatized and throw his own party. One of the purest reasons she'd ever seen someone be akumatized for, really. She could help but feel her heart warming up as she thought of him.

"Why are you smiling?"

Chloé's voice brought her back to reality. She knocked. They had just arrived at Alix's apartment, where the small party would take place. Fourth floor, not too big, but central enough so that everyone could go.

"Memories. I miss high school sometimes."

As she said that, Kagami opened the door. She was wearing a very simple knee-length red dress that somehow still made her look gorgeous. Her dark, black hair looked almost blue as the black light behind her illuminated her figure.

She gave Adrienne a half-smile, one the blonde knew too well from going to the many boring events their parents forced them to attend. Isolated, they had learned to communicate without saying anything, rolling their eyes and using eyebrows to point at something would find funny or, more often, stupid.

"You miss high school? You're so damn weird."

"I told Nino you'd be here!"

Before Adrienne noticed, her arms were around Kagami, bringing her closer and making Chloé roll her eyes. 

They were too similar, and that was what had brought them together during high school. Daddy issues. Mommy issues. Fencing. Not allowed to leave the house or have friends who weren't obnoxiously rich. Repressed. Alone.

For the longest time, she was one of the only friends — besides Chloé — that Adrienne could always bring home.

"Is it because of me that you miss high school?"

Kagami had left Paris and went back to Japan after high school. She'd come back often, but being part of Japan's national fencing team meant she couldn't do that as often as Adrienne and Chloé wanted her to.

They were still hugging.

"Maybe," Adrienne answered.

“So you miss me, huh?” Kagami nodded, then raised an eyebrow Chloé. Chloé whispered, "do it."

Kagami smirked. “Sweet. But do I need to remind you that you broke up with me?”

Oh, yeah. They were exes too. Not that that mattered anymore.

Chloé burst into laughter, following Adrienne as the model let go of the hug and entered the house, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing.

"You guys need to stop doing that. You know it was for our best."

"I know." Kagami shrugged. "But I still adore the way you get so uncomfortable by that."

Everyone was there. Alix. Ivan. Kim. Lila.

It didn’t take long for Adrienne to get drunk with wine, call Nino to prank him, and dance to the EDM songs that Alix had chosen. She talked to everyone, her lively presence so missed since she tried to show Nathalie some respect and did not escape the mansion as often as she could.

The first year after high school, she’d leave basically every week, frustrating Gorilla too as he was forced to drive and search for her. So, when her dad realized she was tired of playing nice, he pretended not to notice her absence and asked Nathalie to do the same. Being a rebel didn’t feel so rebellious anymore. In a certain way, Gabriel manipulated her into obedience by giving her more freedom, but she appreciated that.

So she laughed, and drank, and danced. She let Chloé tell embarrassing stories of the time they were in high school, though everyone still remembered that. She sat next to Kagami, playing with her hair and asking her about her dating life, seeming genuinely interested in that.

And the whole time, sneaking in corners when Adrienne left the room, Lila was watching her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave comments and kudos! love u guys thank u for reading it!!!


End file.
